


Soap Suds

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Peeping, Romance, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was just trying to see what the fuss was all about." </p>
<p>Or, Darcy catches Loki in the shower, and...well, it wasn't necessarily an accident. </p>
<p>(Originally posted on 7/8/12.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soap Suds

**Author's Note:**

> Another re-post. This is another one of my more favorite stories I have written. I just love the potential dynamic Loki and Darcy have, and while they are no longer my most favorite Marvel ship, I do think they're cute together. Please enjoy!

Loki leans his head back and allows the hot shower water to burn his normally icy skin.

It is a welcome thing, this ritual. He runs a hand over his hair and closes his eyes, the pelting of the shower water beating against him harshly. Normally heat gets to him, makes him uncomfortable, but he finds something strangely pleasant about this. He allows himself to get lost in the comfort of the steaming water, allows himself to momentarily forget all the problems of the day.

He hums lightly to himself - a little allowance he has given himself. He does not need to worry about other ears hearing him, and for that he is grateful. He does not know what he would do, had someone decided to come in that very moment…

A crashing sound from the other side of the shower curtain jolts him out of his reverie.

_Of course,_ he thinks sardonically, _of course I would end up jinxing myself._

Closing his eyes for a moment, he braces himself for whatever horror has been unleashed upon him. He half expects it to be Thor telling him that he is taking far too long in the shower when, in fact, he hasn't. (Or has he?)

Slender fingers wrap around the edge of the shower curtain and then pull.

Loki was then met with a pair of large eyes that should have been innocent under any other circumstance…

Darcy Lewis.

And she has just made herself at home in the bathroom, sitting on the porcelain throne as if it is…well, a throne. She tilts her head back and he gets a glimpse of her long neck beneath all the dark tumbles of hair that surround it. She crosses her legs and then wraps her hands around her exposed knee.

"Sup," she greets cheekily, her eyes trailing over his exposed chest. Good thing he had the sense enough to not pull back the curtain all the way; he at least has some of his modesty left.

Loki blinks lazily at her as the shower continues to patter away in the background. "I had the door locked."

Darcy's smile widens. How that is even possible, Loki has no idea. "Yet here I am."

"Yet here…you…are…" he drawls, almost incredulous. Somehow Darcy has managed to best him yet again. Again, how that is even possible, Loki has no idea.

Darcy just stares at him, no shame at all on her face. Her eyes could be almost predatory if they weren't so large and puppy-like. Loki takes his hand from the shower curtain, realizing it had been crinkling in his grasp, and then lets out a large sigh. "Why are you in here?"

She shrugs. "I was just trying to see what the fuss was all about."

"What fuss?" Loki is confused. "There is a fuss?"

"Oh, yes," Darcy's voice rings out, low and faux-seductive. "There is a _definite_ fuss."

Ignoring her waggling eyebrows, Loki asks, "Who even suggested there was a fuss?"

"Well, no one…" Darcy says loftily. "I just assumed that there was one, and I sure am glad I made _this_ particular decision."

He shakes his head, unsure of what to do with this Midgardian woman. He does, however, tug the shower curtain a bit closer to his body despite himself. Her staring at him like that…it made him feel awkward - and that was practically impossible to do. Darcy seemed to have no shame whatsoever.

Loki lifts his chin at her, though, as if in a superior mode of thought. Which he isn't, of course, but he has to appear that way, even when naked in the shower and being _stared_ at by the most baffling woman he has had the displeasure to know.

"I," he begins, "am not glad about that particular decision."

She grins at him, expecting this train of thought. "Really? That's the opposite of what most men would say."

"They would be happy in this situation?" Loki cocks his head to the side.

"Most definitely," she says. "Some of them would probably try to show me their junk and say _'See anything you like?'_ Not you though." She peers at him thoughtfully. "You're very secretive about what you're packing."

Red flashes across Loki's cheeks despite himself. Instead of spluttering like he so wants to, he says, "You say that like you've done this before."

"Nope," she replies in a chipper manner. "You're the first."

"Oh, I'm so honored." He tries to duck back behind the curtain, but she says something else.

"I just know that some guys are like that."

"I am not."

Darcy gives him a smile, and this one is not joking or predatory or smarmy. It is genuine, and it makes him almost want to smile with her. "I know."

"Now can I finish my shower?" he asks.

"Sure." The grin is back, and she leans against the back of the toilet. "Don't mind me."

"You are unsettling."

"I believe the correct term is _creepy_."

"The fact that you know this is just as… _creepy_ ," he repeats in an exact mimic of her voice, a smile spreading across his face.

"Fair enough, fair enough," she says, rising from her seated position and giving him one last glance. "Just tell me if you want any company."

The door closes behind her with a decisive click, and Loki goes back to his shower. Only a few minutes later does he fit the pieces together and realize the implication of her parting words.

Loki switches the shower spray to cold.


End file.
